


In the Warmth of a Wolf

by GSWritings



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Universe, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Dinner, Christmas Eve, Christmas Music, Christmas Tree, Dancing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, M/M, POV Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 22:28:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12993873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GSWritings/pseuds/GSWritings
Summary: Eight years Christmas had been a rough time for Stiles.Eight years he'd tried not to think about her, not to ask himself if it was really his fault.Eight years he'd been sad where others had laughed.But this year all patterns are broken.





	In the Warmth of a Wolf

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mynuet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mynuet/gifts).



> Dear Mynuet, my dear giftee from the Sterek Secret Santa event, I wish you a merry Chistmas and hope you have a wonderful time this year.  
> The story starts a little bit sad but I hope the end makes up for it. I personally like the idea of fixing some things for Christmas, and dude, those two deserve fixes. :)
> 
> Sorry for the bad title and summary, I am not at my best. 8D I'd love to hear back from you! :D
> 
> The story is sadly not beta read. If anyone finds mistakes I love to get a note. :)
> 
> Thanks for the event. ♡

**In the Warmth of a Wolf**

 

Stiles was alone for Christmas.

 

His dad was working, his mom was… well no thoughts there. And everyone else was one or the other way wrapped up in their own little or bigger versions of a Christmas Party. Would be, whatever. No one was out on Christmas Eve and his dad had to work both days this year.

 

It was ridiculous to feel lonely because after his mom had left, they’d never had a big Christmas again. It wasn’t much of a loss. Just lazy snacking beside a small, pitiful mini tree and watching TV. Sometimes his dad would try to make things special and cook - what ended quickly in a late night pizza delivery. On others Stiles would make sure to cook himself early so none of that happened and his dad actually got something healthy into his system.

 

Clearly it wasn’t a big deal and logically there was nothing to be missed, no loss. Just that it was everything Stiles has ever had for years and while he was used to being half way orphaned it had meant something to him that he wasn’t one of those people to be entirely alone on these days. That they still were some kind of family and could celebrate on one day at least. Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, whatever his dad’s schedule would work with.

 

“You can come over to the Station. We’ll have a little Christmas dinner there. It’s not quite what we have at home but… It’s still a Christmas dinner”, his dad had said. And Stiles approved. Of course he did. What else would he do?

 

But he still felt alone when Christmas Eve arrived.

 

The house’s lights all turned off Stiles’ master plan was to ignore Christmas. His TV was casting its usual cold light into the room, all kinds of sweets spread out on his bed, except for the christmassy ones. A Star Wars marathon it was, he’d decided, so he wouldn’t have to think, wouldn’t stumble over Christmas advertisement or anything else. He could completely ignore the fact what night of the year it was. Then he’d go to bed and one day was done.

 

To his plan, however, didn’t belong an opening window, a rush of icy air and a guy that looked alarmingly like a serial killer, who brought in all the damn Christmas stuff Stiles had planned to avoid.

 

“Derek?”, he asked with irritatedly knitted eyebrows. “What the hell are you doing here?”

 

“I am climbing in through your window, Stiles”, the wolf stated matter of factly and caused the boy to roll his eyes.

 

“I can see that, Derek, but WHY are you climbing in through my window? And what the hell are you doing with all this stuff?”

 

He was gesturing towards the box in Derek’s hand that seemed to hold all the damn things he’d tried to keep out of the house for tonight. The strange part was that the wolf didn’t answer. Well, that alone wasn’t strange but Derek seemed to search for the right words, what wasn’t something he did often. In fact he looked as if he had no idea what the answer actually was.

 

Suddenly Stiles had an image of the loft in his head, giant and empty and cold, with the big hole in its wall and Christmas music all around, that might be impossible to hear for him but to Derek impossible not to hear. 

 

_ Maybe he’s lonely _ , Stiles thought. What had Derek done all the other years before? Hunted down some enemy for revenge, probably. Sharpened his claws, maybe threatened someone to death. Or many people that was. Yeah he could even think about him killing someone in the holy night if that someone fitted the required profile of ‘involved to Hale fire’.

 

But Derek had calmed down now. He had evolved and for some reason still returned to this place. Currently there was no actual threat, what left nothing to do. Nothing at all. And Stiles kind of took pity on him.

 

“God I hope there’s something to eat in there. Some real food I mean, I am starving!”, he exclaimed and cut the silence off before it got too long. With a few steps he was at the box, taking it from Derek and starting to sort through the things in it.

 

Yep, definitely what he didn’t want to see. There were Christmas sweets, lots of Christmas sweets, - what surprisingly meant his favorite kinds - and even a little package. Derek had brought some decoration, too. It was very weird looking, old tree decorations that somehow reminded Stiles of wolves. In between was actually a food bag, curly fries included. What meant another of his favorites.

 

Stiles turned around. “Dude, you have plans, haven’t you?”, he asked with raised brows, wondering about the efforts the older one had put into bringing all his favorite stuff. Derek on the other hand still made a strange face… God Stiles missed the scowl that was so easy to go against. A lot easier than this uncertain, almost lost gaze.

 

“Um… not that I have anything against plans. Just… surprised, that’s all.” And that wasn’t even a lie. He was surprised.

 

“You know what? Maybe we should go downstairs to eat and stuff. And uh… yeah. Whatever else”, he said because he had no idea what they were supposed to do. And with that Stiles took the box and left the room. 

 

So much for ignoring Christmas.

 

Derek followed silently like the creeper he was and looked around the house as if he’d seen it for the first time. What he did, Stiles realised. After all he’d always entered through his bedroom window and never left the room except through the very same window.

 

It was an awkward silence for a while. Stiles working, preparing the table just to find Derek lurking around right behind him. “Dude, sit down, you make me nervous”, he’d demanded but instead there was a pair of raised eyebrows and gone dishes that Derek decidedly put onto the table himself. 

 

It was weird, really weird okay? There was Derek Hale in his living room, who’d sneaked in through his window with a Christmas box and was now setting up the dining table. ‘I’ll rip out your throat with my teeth’ Derek Hale, just to be clear. Stiles knew he’d changed but, really? That was a little bit much to take in. He’d grown used to beastly and murderous during the last months. Domestic, or half domestic regarding how Derek chose to enter, was not quite fitting into the picture!

 

They went back to silent preparations until Derek asked: “You don’t do music for Christmas?”, just to cause another surprised look on Stiles’ face and a few stammers that desperately tried to not make strange comments on Derek’s unusual behaviour. Because Derek actually was strange today what Stiles put into the category ‘emotionally fucked up, don’t push further’. Not even Derek Hale. Not there. Stiles wasn’t going after the death of relatives. 

 

So he turned on the radio and the pitiful mini Christmas tree. He took out the good Christmas dishes instead of the other ones and exchanged them - once again not without Derek’s creepy interference to help. 

 

He ended up with all the things he’d tried to avoid, silently eating his curly fries opposite Derek Hale. And the weirdest thing of all was that it wasn’t that bad at all. It was a slightly heavy and also a little bit awkward atmosphere but other than that quite comfortable and strangely peaceful.

 

Derek had been staring on his box for a while now and Stiles wondered what he was thinking about. He couldn’t help the feeling to miss out on something here but didn’t dare to ask either.

 

“You don’t like the decorations?”, the wolf finally asked and Stiles dumbfoundedly stared back at him. “What? I didn’t say that.”

 

Derek looked at his face, searching for something. “Don’t you bring decorations for the trees nowadays?”, he asked again and something clicked. 

 

“Oh! Uhm….I don’t know actually. It was always us, you know? Dad and me and occasionally the pizza man.”

 

The light eyes of the wolf wandered onto their empty curly fry dishes to stare at them silently. “But I loove curly fries!”, Stiles hurried to say. Whatever Derek thought about didn’t seem to be good. And he didn’t want the older one to think the wrong things. “Really. You know what? I think it’s decoration time, isn’t it?”

 

Stiles quickly got up and hurried to the box with the wolf decorations. They weren’t ugly, not at all. In fact they were quite elegant, mystical and very unique. Stiles would never have thought about something like that for Christmas but it didn’t matter. He had no idea why he was so eager to please Derek today, yet he started to get some of the figurines out. 

Doing this was something kinda new. Then again none of this belonged to his usual routine and for a moment Stiles wasn’t sure who he wanted to please. A dangerous thought he quickly shove away.

 

“So!”, he said, putting the box down beside the little thing. “Let’s wolf this tree!”

 

Derek stayed silent when Stiles started what only made him talk all the more. “So you used to bring decorations to your Christmas Parties?”, he asked. “How many parties did you attend? Damn, those are many.”

 

“One”, Derek answered. Confused the boy looked back. “Each year everyone would make one piece and add it to our family’s tree”, he explained. 

 

Something in Stiles belly started to clench as realization hit him and he looked down on the wolves in his hands. Of course. That’s why they were wolves. Those were the remains of Derek’s family’s Christmas decorations. Stiles had no idea how they’d survived the fire but suddenly he felt sick.

 

“Derek…”, he said cautiously. “You don’t have to bring anything, really. You can keep them.”

 

Derek looked at him with that blank granit expression of his, shaking his head. He didn’t seem to be up for a discussion but it still felt wrong. Why would Derek give them to Stiles and his dad anyways? He swallowed heavily, settling for another attempt but Derek’s expression stopped him.  _ Maybe he can’t bear them anymore _ , Stiles thought.  _ Or maybe he wants to relive that tradition at least once _ . Although bringing all of the pieces certainly overdid his tradition.

 

A small sigh and Stiles eyed their tree before he cautiously took the biggest, most proud looking wolf out of the box, to hang it in the middle of the tree. It was a place of honour, right beside his mom’s favorite angel, where it was best visible. And regarding the expression Derek made this was exactly the right decision to make. Stiles couldn’t have described the gaze, that crossed Derek’s face before he turned to look away. Woa. That was almost intimate. Quickly he adjusted his gaze onto the decorations, filled with too many feelings, too many questions.

 

It stayed like this for the rest of the decorating. When the tree was full Stiles went to put the other wolves everywhere else in the room, occasionally getting help by a broad body in his back and the grip of a firm hand around one wolf to put it into the upper regions. No one said a word, not even when they were sitting at the table again. Derek was so silent and serious, it didn't seem to fit into a Christmas party and while it had been okay at first, somehow it started to get uncomfortable now. 

 

“So what did your family do for Christmas?”, he asked the possibly most awful question he could have asked before Stiles could do so much as stop himself. His mouth fell open and the boy stilled for a moment, ready to take the question back and cursing himself already. But Derek just answered calmly before he could say anything: “We danced.”

 

And with that Stiles was immediately back on track, because: “You danced? Like danced, danced? All the classy stuff?”

 

Derek’s expression was unreadable. Stiles had no idea what was going on in his head. “Wow. I didn’t know you could actually do that. It’s so domestic.”

 

Now the wolf’s expression was very easy to read. His brows did the typical rise-talk what felt a lot more comfortable and known to him. “Come on, you still enter my house lurking in through my window. I have the right to be a little bit stunned over here.” The eyebrows rose further. “We actually have a door, you know? It’s right there”, Stiles continued pointing to the floor. He was glad the tension was starting to ease slightly, not willing to drag this on as much as possible. “You’re allowed to use it.”

 

Now Derek’s expression got almost amused. Wow. He’d managed to amuse the wolf - finally - and of course when he was being entirely serious. What else?

 

But despite how much closer this was to their usual self it was still odd, sad and so strangely normal all at once. Stiles could see glimpses of the life Derek had once obtained. With all that had been going on it was so easy to forget Derek has had a normal life once and whenever Stiles fantasised about how it might had been there was a strange, indefinable sensation.

 

“So, uh, you’re kind of the wolf in the noble pelt or something, dancing and all. Shouldn’t you stumble over your big wolf feet or something?”, Stiles asked. Derek’s face looked still amused.

 

“I take it you don’t dance”, he said.

 

“No, we don’t. Or..maybe my parents, I don’t know.”

 

Stiles’ gaze dropped down at the thought. He didn’t have much time to find out. There were memories of his parents together. Laughing, dancing… he shove the thought away.

 

“Well who would have guessed you could do something so...yeah.”

 

Stiles saw the smug face, thinking he was going to embarrass himself if he didn’t turn the tables now and he knew there was something to come. That was Derek’s international ‘I am the cool guy’ face and usually that came with a demonstration.

 

So Derek got up and rounded the table until a hand was held out to Stiles.

 

“Oh no. No, no. I am certainly not doing this. Dude, I almost broke my bones during Lacrosse, what do you think I am gonna do dancing?”

 

But of course everything Derek would do was raise his eyebrows and grin that stupid smug grin of his, hand still in the air. “You can actually manage to be afraid of dancing?”, the ass stated before he did a movement that was just the slightest suggestion of a tilted head or a shrug. “Congratulations, Stilinski, I think you’ve managed to break a new record.”

 

Stiles’ own expression settled into a frown. No, he’d not get himself mocked today, not at all. “Fine. Dancing. Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.”

 

With those words Stiles got up onto his feet and before he could do anything Derek had firmly taken his hand and pulled him closer, into a position that was way too close to the wolf. The boy stayed silent until he noticed what Derek had done.

 

“Hey, why am I the girly part here? I am so not girly at all.” Of course Derek, who actually stopped in his actions, looked down at Stiles with another round of questioning brow acrobatics. “So you know the steps?”

 

Stiles blinked. “What? No. Of course not.” Oh god the smug grin again, because, yes, Stiles had no point to argue anymore.

 

Derek started moving and the second he did Stiles expected some serious stumbling, feet stepping or worse but to his surprise it wasn’t difficult at all, although he didn’t know how it worked. In Derek’s firm grip and certain directing there was no way Stiles could have gone wrong. Maybe his steps were a bit insecure at first but Derek maneuvered him to wherever he wanted him with seemingly no effort.

 

_It shouldn’t feel so good_ , Stiles thought. Being so close to the muscular body which had hurt him so often already, should feel weird. What it actually did. A little bit. But somehow it was also very grounding. It felt good to let go, to move, with the music in his ears and simply let the moment pass by. To let himself be manhandled through his living room, knowing he would end up at the right place with no worries of something to happen for once. He hadn’t felt like this in a while and with the feeling rising, Stiles had to shove it away.

 

“I have a very weird Beauty and the Beast sensation here”, he stated therefore. “Well at least that makes me the Beauty. That’s something I guess.” But all Derek did was snort and Stiles was left to his thoughts again.

 

He couldn’t stop his thoughts from wandering to his mom. It was hard these days anyways but with the rising feeling inside of him, Stiles kept seeing his parents like this, smiling and laughing. He wondered if this was what they had felt like. If this was what his mom had felt like, securely guided through the very same room in the arms of his dad. Stiles lowered his head. It brought him closer to Derek’s chest in the process, but it was okay. It was hiding his face for now, and Derek let him.

 

They danced for a while like this, song after song. At some point Stiles had relaxed into the motion and everything somehow happened on its own now. The tension from before was gone to leave nothing more than quiet, peaceful calmness. Their movements had gotten less at some point. Derek had redirected Stiles’ hands around his neck and put both of his own comfortably around the boy’s waist to simply swing a little bit around on their feet.

 

Stiles had no idea how long they were dancing like this until he realized they had stopped - and where exactly they were standing. His eyes widened with a quickly speeding heartbeat and he looked up to Derek, mouth opening and closing without saying a word. Instead Stiles pressed his lips together, trying to keep as normal as possible. Now way he’d get into that embarrassing situation! But it was of no use. He had no idea what had given it away, maybe the damn smell, because Stiles desperately didn’t look up. But the wolf did. And the moment  he did Stiles swallowed heavily, watching how Derek’s eyes wandered back down to him with amusement on his face.

 

“That’s, uh, an old tradition”, Stiles stumbled into babbling. “My mom always put it up there, so somehow we keep doing that for no reason at all. It’s not like we’d be kissing here, my dad and I - urgh, gross! Well that’s… it doesn’t mean anything. At all. Just…. Tradition and stuff.”

 

Even Stiles could hear his own heartbeat racing as he stared into Derek’s still amused face.

 

“Uh, did you know it’s name comes from the old german word ‘mistil’, what actually means poop? It’s because it spreads through bird’s poop, being the most attainable food for them in winter. Who would want to kiss under that, huh?”

 

But somehow this sidestory didn’t wipe Derek’s expression away either. He was relaxed, too relaxed and Stiles for some reason couldn’t cope with that. He tried to withdraw and suddenly a few things happened all at once: First Stiles saw a slight flicker of alarm in Derek’s eyes before his hand gripped the back of the boy's head the moment before they hit something. And the very same moment Derek touched him Stiles felt something big rise inside his body, causing him to gasp.

 

And that was it. 

 

Derek’s eyes darted to Stiles’, intently, strangely open and so, so close. Then there were lips on his own, tender lips, slowly sliding along them with a gentleness that surprised Stiles. He’d expected everything, wild fire, fierce roughness, demanding determination but Derek’s kiss was the most gentle thing Stiles had ever experienced. When the wolf slowly withdrew to look at him Stiles felt a little bit dazed. His own lips still stood open in wonder, eyes returning the gaze speechless.

 

“I…” Stiles swallowed slightly. “I think…” His mind was slow, so slow. Derek didn’t push him, just kept looking at him. “There are two berries at a mistletoe, aren’t there? So aren’t there to be two kisses then?” His heart was still racing behind his quiet words and Stiles once again swallowed. What was he doing? 

 

Derek actually smiled at him amused now. Smiled. A real, beautiful smile. Something the boy had never seen on his face but found himself alarmingly drawn to. Drawn to and hurt and moved by. It was like a push that propelled Stiles forward, so he peered his eyes from the man’s face to look up and count. His heart stumbled. “There are five even. That’s five kisses of a very serious tradition that needs to be followed.”

 

His last words were muffled by a pair of two lips and a quiet: “Shut up, Stiles”, from his wolf. His wolf. Because right now it felt like Derek kind of was and Stiles liked the thought. He moved one hand into the soft strands of Derek’s hair, surprised at how immediate Derek leaned in closer when he did. Another jump of his heart, fingers sliding deeper into the dark hair because Derek  _ liked it _ .

 

They didn’t stop after five kisses. They didn’t stop after five minutes either. They kept kissing and cuddling, exchanging gentle touches here or there hour for hour until they got tired of moving and Derek maneuvered them onto the couch first, then up to his room and into Stiles’ bed.

 

The whole time he felt a warm feeling, as warm as Derek’s wolf body. More sweet than the candies the older one had brought and which vanished quickly during their thorough inspection. He felt actually kind of at peace, without thinking about his mom, or the monsters or the cold gnawing at the edge of his mind. Just at peace for as long as they would stick together.

 

And for the first time in eight years Stiles wasn’t sad when he fell asleep on Christmas Eve. He wasn’t sad when he woke up on Christmas Day either.  He wasn’t sad at all.

 

All the Cold he'd felt when Christmas came, was gone in the warmth of a wolf.

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas everyone! :) ♡


End file.
